


Finding Baelfire

by smartgirlsaremean



Category: Finding Nemo (2003), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Rumbelle Christmas in July 2018, hope it's fun anyway, turned out more action/adventure than romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 12:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartgirlsaremean/pseuds/smartgirlsaremean
Summary: When Rumplestiltskin's son is taken from him, he is determined to find his boy and get him back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [applejackcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejackcat/gifts).



> Happy RCIJ, applejackcat! I enjoyed being your Santa.

_ I will never let anything happen to you. _

They were words that he’d repeated nearly every day since he and Bae had been left all alone - words that he’d meant with all his heart, that had been woven into his blood and bones and defined his very existence. They were love and trust and  _ promise _ , and now here he was, frozen in horror as Bae disappeared from his sight.

“No,” he croaked, taking a step forward. “ _ No! _ ” Leaning heavily on his stick he stumbled forward, running as fast as he could (which was, of course, not very fast at all), not even thinking about what he would do when he caught up with the horses and the soldiers, how he would get his boy back, where they would run and hide. He only knew that he had to go, had to move, had to  _ run _ , had to  _ save him _ …

His treacherous foot twisted underneath him and he fell, rocks and roots digging into his skin and drawing blood, the earth falling away from him as he plummeted down, down, down, and then there was an almighty  _ crack _ , what felt like an explosion in his head, and everything went dark.

* * *

 

Someone was talking to him.

“Oh,  _ please _ wake up,” they were whispering, and he tried to obey, tried to open his eyes, but the light seared his brain and he gasped, flinching away.

“Thank the gods,” the voice said. A soft hand rested on his brow. “Easy, now. You must have hit your head very hard. You probably have a terrible headache.”

He did. The hammer he’d taken to his ankle had felt like a gentle massage compared to this.

“You don’t have to open your eyes,” she said. “But I’m going to ask you a few questions. Do you know your name?”

“Rumplestiltskin,” he rasped.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Er...the road to Longbourn.”

“Well, more like a few hundred yards from the road to Longbourn, but close enough. Do you know how you fell?”

He had to think about that one for a moment. He fell on a regular basis - usually because someone had shoved him or tripped him or knocked his stick out of his hands - but he didn’t think that was the case this time. “I was...running?”

“Running? Were you in danger? Was someone chasing you?”

He paused to think again. “I think...maybe?”

She hummed. “Probably Hordor’s men. They’ve been unbearable lately.”

Hordor. The Duke’s men.

_ Bae! _

Rumplestiltskin sat bolt upright with a strangled cry and promptly wretched into the grass when his head gave an almighty throb.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” the woman said, grasping his shoulders and trying to push him back down. “They’re gone, they’ve been gone for hours, you’re not…”

“Gone? No!” Rumplestiltskin struggled against her grasp and tried to push himself to his feet. “They can’t be, they can’t be gone. I have to…I have to…” His head whirled and he dropped to his knees, breathing heavily.

“You have to rest,” the woman said, kneeling in front of him. “You’re safe now.”

“No, no, no, I can’t rest, I can’t stay,” he said wildly, looking at her for the first time. “They took him, they’ve got my boy, I…”

Even through the white haze of his headache he saw her face grow pale. “Your boy? Your  _ son _ ?”

“Baelfire. He’s only thirteen. They’ve taken him…”

“ _ Thirteen? _ ” the woman gasped. “How could they...he’s just a child!”

“The Duke lowered the age again,” he said hoarsely.

“Again? What do you mean  _ again _ ?”

“Used to be twenty-one,” he said, relief washing over him as the pain in his head began to subside into a dull buzzing. “Then eighteen. Then sixteen. Then…”

“Merciful heavens,” the woman whispered. “I had no idea…”

“I have to find him...have to protect him…”

“Of course you do.” The woman put her hands on his shoulders and dipped her head until he met her eyes. “I’ll help you.”

That stopped Rumplestiltskin in his figurative tracks. Help him? No one  _ ever _ helped him. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

The woman looked surprised. “Well...you’re hurt and...and Hordor’s men are very well-trained, and…”

“No, I mean why do  _ you _ want to help  _ me _ ?”

“Oh.” Her expression shifted to something a little softer and she shrugged. “It’s sort of...what I do?”

His vision was clearing and he could see her more distinctly now. She was young - very young. Not more than twenty years old, he’d guess, and easily the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was pinned up away from her face, and - what in the name of the gods was she wearing? He’d never seen a woman in trousers in his life.

“Who  _ are  _ you?” he asked.

“My name is Belle,” she said, shifting so that she was sitting on the ground in front of him.

“And you...help people?”

“Yes.”

“All people?”

“As many as I can.”

“Why?”

She blinked at that and dropped her gaze. “Because...because.”

He huffed a little. “You sound like…” His voice trailed off as his throat closed up.

“We’ll get him back,” she said firmly. “As soon as you can stand, we’ll go.”

He looked around for his stick, but it was nowhere to be seen. “I need something to help me walk,” he mumbled, shamefaced. “I’ve got a bad foot.”

Humming, Belle stood and walked around the clearing for a bit, then came back with a long, sturdy tree limb. “Will this do?”

“Perfect.” He took it from her and began the long, slow process of standing up, grateful that she did not offer to help him. Once he was up, he looked around and his heart sank. He’d fallen quite a ways from the road, and he didn’t even know in which direction he’d fallen or how far or whether he’d got turned around. He had no way of knowing which way to go.

“Ready?”

“I...I don’t know which…”

“I do. They went this way.” She pointed, and Rumplestiltskin sighed in relief.

“Right. Good. Thank you.”

Flashing him a brief smile, Belle led the way, careful to keep pace with him. They walked along the road in silence, with Belle occasionally glancing behind them, her hand sometimes straying to her side where a dagger was clipped to her belt. Rumplestiltskin wondered once again who exactly she was and what she was doing out here, but worries for Baelfire overpowered his curiosity. As long as she was helping him get to his boy, he didn’t care who or what she was. All that mattered was Bae.


	2. Chapter 2

They’d been walking for what felt like hours. Rumplestiltskin’s foot was in agony, but he thought of Baelfire, grit his teeth, and walked doggedly onward. Beside him, Belle was growing fidgety, her hand straying to her side more often, her eyes flicking to and fro.

“What is it?” he ground out at last when she’d looked behind her for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

“Something isn’t right,” she said. “I keep getting the feeling we’re being watched.”

“Watched? Who would…”

A shadow fell across their path and they both stopped in their tracks; Belle whipped her dagger out of its sheath and Rumplestiltskin clutched his stick as his knees shook underneath him. Looming over them, his hair wild and his eyes shrewd, was a troll.

“Hello, there,” he growled, baring his teeth in a horrible grin. “In a hurry?”

“We are, as a matter of fact,” Belle said, adjusting her grip on her dagger. “I suppose you’re collecting the toll?”

“Toll?” The troll gave a harsh sound that might have been a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a public road. I’m on my way to a...uh...get-together. I was hoping the two of you would join me.”

“What sort of get-together?”

“Just me and a few of my friends,” the troll said, “and some friends of theirs. You really should come.” He casually caressed the handle of the axe at his side and Rumplestiltskin took a shaky breath. Unless Belle was much stronger and faster than she seemed, they would stand no chance if he decided to attack.

Belle shook her head. “Let us pass or…”

“We’ll go,” Rumplestiltskin said quickly.

“We will?” Belle looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Yes. But we can’t stay long.”

“Oh, these little parties never last long,” the troll said, stepping between the two of them. “Right this way, my friends.”

Belle shot another look at Rumplestiltskin, who nodded and began to follow their...host.

“My name is Zom’ga,” the troll said as they walked. “What’s yours?”

“Rumpelstiltskin, and this is Belle,” Rumplestiltskin said shakily.

“Funny names. What are you two up to?”

“Just...going for a walk.” Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard as they entered a clearing and saw two more trolls, one of whom was gripping the arm of a peasant girl who looked like she was about to faint dead away.

“And you ran into me. What luck.”

“Finally!” one of the other trolls huffed when Zom'ga stopped in front of him. “Can we get this over with? I’m starving!”

Next to Rumplestiltskin, Belle sucked in a breath and her hand twitched towards her dagger.

“Be patient, Vru'sosh,” Zom'ga said. He moved away from the others and stood behind the stump of an old tree as if he were about to give a speech. “Let the meeting come to order!”

_ Meeting? _ Rumplestiltskin and Belle exchanged glances.

“Let us all say the pledge.”

The trolls all raised their gnarled hands and recited in unison: “I am a nice troll, not a mindless killing machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. People are pals, not prey.”

Baffled, Rumplestiltskin met Belle’s eyes, which were wide with shock.

“Except  _ royals _ ,” the troll called Vru'sosh growled.

“Royals,” snarled the third troll. “Think they’re so damn important. ‘ _ Oh, I was born in a castle and never had to do nothin’ for myself. Kiss my lily-white ass and tell me how special I am!’ _ ”

“Now, then," Zom'ga continued as if there'd been no interruption, "today’s meeting is Step 5, bring a human friend. Do you all have your friends?”

“Got mine,” Vru'sosh said, holding the arm of the peasant girl aloft with a proud grin.

“Steve?”

“Oh, I, uh,” Steve fidgeted and, behind his back, Rumplestiltskin could see that he held a dagger dripping with something red and shiny, “I seem to have, uh, misplaced my friend.”

“That’s alright,” Zom'ga said magnanimously. “I knew this would be a difficult step. You can help yourself to one of my friends.”

Grinning, Steve grasped Belle’s arm and pulled her to stand next to him, his wicked eyes gleaming. “I get the pretty one,” he said. Belle’s jaw clenched and her eyes darted around the clearing.

“I’ll start the testimonies,” Zom'ga said, drawing himself up to his full height. “Hello, my name is Zom'ga.”

“Hello, Zom'ga,” Vru'sosh and Steve chorused.

“It has been three weeks since I last killed a person, on my honor, or may I never touch a gold coin again.”

The other trolls applauded, and Steve even looked a little misty-eyed. “You’re an inspiration to all of us,” he said hoarsely.

“Who’s next?” Zom'ga asked, looking around the clearing as if there were hundreds assembled instead of just the six of them. “No one? What about you, miss?” he said to Belle.

“I…” For a moment Rumplestiltskin thought Belle was going to laugh, but she controlled herself and slowly approached the tree stump. Zom'ga moved away with a respectful bow of his head, and Belle took a deep breath. “Alright...Hello. I’m Belle.”

“Hello, Belle,” the trolls intoned seriously.

“I’ve...well, I’ve never killed another person.”

The three trolls applauded wildly. “That’s amazing!” “Good for you!”

Belle’s lips were now pressed into a fine line, and her shoulders were shaking very slightly. “Thank you,” she squeaked. “I’m...glad I finally told someone.”

“Well done, Belle!” Zom'ga beamed at her as she walked away from the stump. “How about you?” he said to Rumplestiltskin. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Rumplestiltskin said quickly.

“Right…” Zom'ga met his friends’ eyes. “Denial!” Vru'sosh and Steve nodded in agreement, then stepped forward and grasped Rumplestiltskin by the arms and marched him up to the podium. The peasant girl saw her chance for escape and darted away, disappearing into the trees. None of the trolls noticed that she was gone.

“Just start with your name,” Steve said, and Rumplestiltskin gulped, turning his walking stick in his hands.

“My n-name is R-rumple-s-stiltskin,” he said shakily.

Vru'sosh snorted. “Is that a joke?”

“N-no, it’s my name.” Rumplestiltskin took another breath. “I-I’ve n-never…” His voice trailed off as something caught his eye at the edge of the clearing; snagged on a low branch of a tree was a very familiar scarf. “Baelfire,” he whispered. He left the clearing and headed for the scarf.

“He’s never built a fire? Is that what he said?” Zom'ga asked.

“No,  _ Baelfire _ .” Rumplestiltskin reached out with a shaking hand and grasped the scarf. “My son. He was taken from me. By the Duke’s soldiers.”

“What did I say?  _ Royals _ ,” growled Vru'sosh. “Think they own everything.” Next to him, Belle shifted her feet.

“I have to get him back,” Rumplestiltskin said, running his fingers over the material before carefully draping the scarf around his neck.

“A father looking for his son,” Zom'ga said with a sigh. “I never knew my father.” His eyes welled with tears and the other trolls converged on him, patting him on the shoulder and offering words of consolation. Vru'sosh tugged Belle closer and she offered Zom'ga a soothing pat on the hand, and he hissed, grasping her hand in his own.

“Such... _ smooth _ skin,” he said, his clawed thumb rubbing the back of her hand. Steve and Vru'sosh stiffened and Rumplestiltskin stepped forward as Zom'ga raised his other hand up to rest against Belle’s throat. “So  _ delicate _ and  _ soft _ ,” he said, his voice deepening. “So... _ fragile _ .”

“Intervention!” Steve and Vru'sosh cried, and they leapt forward and grasped Zom'ga by the arms. Rumplestiltskin, without thinking, swung wildly with his walking stick, catching Zom’ga in the head and surprising him into letting go of Belle; she stumbled backwards and drew her dagger as Zom'ga roared and strained against his friends’ hold.

“Run!” Vru'sosh shouted. “We’ll hold him off!”

“We’re really sorry about this,” Steve grunted as Zom'ga elbowed him in the stomach. “He’s really very kind and gentle!”

Belle darted forward, grabbed Rumplestiltskin’s arm, and pulled him after her, trying her best to keep a pace that would take them to safety and also not break his ankle. Behind them, Zom'ga’s shouts of fury were punctuated with grunts and yelps from the others and, once, the clang of metal against metal. They ran and ran, never looking back, until the sounds of the scuffle could no longer be heard. Belle came to a sudden halt and Rumplestiltskin stumbled and fell to one knee, panting.

When he looked up, he saw that she was scanning the trees around them, her dagger still drawn, but even as he watched the tension in her shoulders eased and she sighed. “We lost them,” she said. She turned to look at him, frowning. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, pulling himself to his feet again. He winced as pain shot through his ankle.

“I need water.” Belle held up her canteen and shook it. “I think there’s a river nearby. We’ll stop and get a drink, maybe rest for a few minutes.”

“I can’t rest,” Rumplestiltskin snapped. “I have to find…”

“What are you going to do when we find Hordor’s men?” Belle asked, planting one hand on her hip. “What good will you be to Baelfire if you’re exhausted and injured? We’ll find him, Rumplestiltskin, I  _ promise _ , but you have to take care of yourself too.”

Rumplestiltskin scowled at her, his face flushing. He knew she was right, but every moment he so much as paused for breath, Bae got farther and farther away. What if he was taken to the fighting? What if he never saw him again?

“Let’s go,” Belle said, moving to stand next to him. “Lean on me, the river’s not far.”

He nearly snapped that he didn’t need her help, but one look at her face told him he was skating on very thin ice. Huffing, he let her put his arm around her shoulders and they made their slow, painful way down the road.

* * *

“Don’t even think of running.”

Baelfire straightened up to his full height and glared, flexing against the rope that bound his wrists. The man sneered at him, gave a nasty laugh, and turned away, and Baelfire’s heart pounded.

“Baelfire?”

The voice made him pause, and he looked around for its source. Not far away sat a girl, her long hair obscuring her face, and he inched closer until he could see her eyes.

“Morraine!” He crouched next to her. “You’re alive!”

“For now.” Morraine gave a feeble smile. “And so are you. But you’re not fourteen yet, are you?”

Baelfire reddened and stared at the ground. “I’m fourteen in two days’ time,” he muttered.

“Then they would have come for you in two days. Why did they take you early? What happened?”

Baelfire shrugged.

“Did you run?” Morraine’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“ _ No! _ ” Baelfire snapped.

Morraine hummed next to him. “My parents talked about it, you know. Trying to run, to take me away before they could come. But they were too afraid.”

“Too afraid to run away?” Baelfire shook his head. “Running away is what cowards do. Heroes fight.”

Shifting to sit a little closer to him, Morraine nudged his shoulder. “Do heroes kidnap children and make them fight wars for them?”

“I…”

“Quiet over there, or I’ll gag the pair of ya!” shouted one of the guards.

“Where’s your father?” Morraine whispered, so quietly that he could scarcely hear her. “Did they...he’s not…”

“I don’t know. I woke up with them. They said he ran,” Baelfire hissed back at her. “He ran and left me.”

Morraine met his eyes then, her own huge and sad. “Oh, gods…”

“I said  _ quiet _ .” Smacking Baelfire on the back of the head, the guard moved to stand menacingly in front of them. “Unless you want me to cut your tongues out.”

Ducking her head, Morraine fell silent, and Baelfire glared into the fire. The rope on his wrists fairly burned, and he wanted to shout at the guards that they didn’t need to bind him, that he wouldn’t run, wouldn’t struggle. Tears stung his eyes and he tried to wipe them away. He was no  _ coward _ .

Not like his father.


	3. Chapter 3

If his ankle hadn’t felt like it was going to crack in two any minute, Rumplestiltskin would have been pacing. Belle had filled her canteen and convinced him to wash his face and take a few drinks, and now she was walking about the clearing, looking for something. The sun was setting and he was anxious to move on, but Belle didn’t seem to share his urgency.

“This is a good spot,” she said finally, coming up to him.

“A good spot for what?”

“To make camp.”

“To  _ make camp _ ?” Rumplestiltskin whirled on her. “Are you...you want to  _ stop? _ ”

She raised her eyebrows. “Unless you can see in the dark, there’s no way to track them once the sun goes down. They’ll be stopping too, and if we wake early we can get a bit of a head start on them.”

Rumplestiltskin fidgeted and looked around the riverbank. “I…”

“You need to rest,” Belle said. “Sit down and put your ankle in the water - the cold will soothe it. I’m going to get wood for a fire.” 

She strode off into the trees and Rumplestiltskin wavered for a moment, but when he tried to follow her the pain in his ankle nearly brought him to his knees, so he followed her advice. The icy water felt like heaven on his throbbing foot, and he took deep breaths to try to slow his heartbeat. Belle was right, after all; the Duke’s men would have stopped for the night, and they would get nowhere trying to search for them in the dark. They might even get lost and end up farther away than before. When Belle returned with an armful of firewood, he was considerably calmer.

“I’m sorry,” he said as she built the fire. She glanced back at him, her expression surprised.

“For what?”

“For being so difficult. You’ve no reason to help me, and I should be more grateful.”

Belle huffed and struck her flint against a stone. “It’s okay. You’re scared and worried, and I’m stronger than I look. I can handle you being grumpy.”

When the fire was blazing and crackling, Belle helped him to move closer to it and then reached into her pack, pulling out a loaf of crusty bread and a few apples. She settled next to him and handed him a share of the food, and he could feel her eyes on him as he ate.

“Tell me about him,” she said softly when he was finished. “About Baelfire. What’s he like?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed. “He’s brave and bold and generous and good. He...he didn’t want to run away, he wanted to stay and fight. He doesn’t know what it’s like - what  _ they’re  _ like.”

“The ogres?” Belle studied him. “Is that what happened to your ankle? Were you in the first ogre war?”

Shaking his head, Rumplestiltskin turned slightly away from her. “I was drafted into the army, but I never saw battle. I - I heard that my wife was pregnant and - and then I heard a - well, a prophecy. That my actions the next day would leave my child without a father.” He glanced up and met Belle’s eyes. “I took a mallet to my ankle that night. I grew up without a father. I couldn’t bear the thought that my child would do the same.”

Tears were welling in Belle’s eyes. “So you went home. To be with your son.” 

“It probably would have been better if I hadn’t. No one wants to be saddled with a coward for a father.”

“That’s a terrible thing to…” Belle took a deep breath and frowned. “But your wife...did she manage to escape Hordor and his men today? You were alone when I found you.”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head and looked away again. “She couldn’t bear to be married to the village coward. She spent every night at the tavern, trying to forget that she was shackled to me. Then one night a pirate ship came in and...and she’d been out with them. They took her away the next morning.”

“Gods…” Belle’s voice was thin and strained.

“I tried to get her back. I went to the pirate ship and begged the captain to let her come home, but he...he said that if I wanted her, I’d have to fight for her.” He shook his head. “All I could think about was Bae at home - and that if I fought those pirates and died, he’d be all alone. So I walked away. You see?” he added with a tiny, sad smile. “I  _ am _ a coward.”

Belle said nothing, and when he looked at her he saw that she’d drawn her knees up to her chest, her arms looped around them. The firelight danced over her skin and hair, and he was struck again with how young and beautiful she was. She looked as if she should be dancing the night away at a ball, handsome young knights vying for her attention and her smiles.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, and she started as if she’d forgotten he was there. “Why help me? Or anyone?”

“It’s simple really,” she said after a moment. “Once, I could have helped someone, and I didn’t. And that caused the misery and suffering of...a lot of people. Maybe helping one person at a time won’t undo that, but it’s  _ something _ .”

“But you must have family? Friends? A...a sweetheart?”

She gave him a smile that was nearly a smirk. “Not really, no, and...I was never very popular with the young men in my circle.”

“ _ What?” _

“Well, I’m a little odd, as you can probably tell.”

“But you’re - I mean…” He faltered a little at her questioning look. “You’re very...pretty.”

She blushed and looked away. “Beauty isn’t everything.”

“But you’re also strong and brave and…”

“And those aren’t qualities that most men want in a wife, at least not where I come from.” Belle picked up a stick and stirred the fire. “They want their women quiet and docile and gentle. Pretty ornaments for their large estates.”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “They must be fools.”

“But you must know what I mean,” Belle said thoughtfully. “After all,  _ you’re _ very handsome, but because you didn’t behave the way you were expected to…”

“I’m  _ what? _ ”

Belle looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “You don’t think you’re handsome?”

“I...well...I mean...uh…” The truth was that Milah had once thought him handsome, and had told him so more than once, but since he’d come back from the war she’d ridiculed his looks constantly. “My...nose is too long,” he said finally, hating how weak his voice sounded.

“Your nose is distinguished,” Belle corrected him, and he blushed. “But the point is that you were expected to behave a certain way and you didn’t, so even though you’re handsome you were still treated badly. Beauty is only skin deep.”

She had a point. Rumplestiltskin looked away from her and out into the woods, wishing that he had an eagle’s eyesight. Where was Bae? Was he hurt? hungry? scared? Please the gods, let them find him in time.

“We should sleep,” Belle said from beside him. She stretched out on her front on the grass, rested her head on her arms, and looked up at him. “We want to get an early start tomorrow.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded and lay down on his back on the other side of the fire, staring up at the stars twinkling in the heavens. He chose the brightest one and closed his eyes.  _ I wish...I wish… _

In the middle of the night, Rumplestiltskin awoke with a start. The sky was still pitch black, sprinkled liberally with stars, and on the other side of the fire Belle was snoring lightly. The fire had burned down considerably, but the night air was mild. No breeze stirred the branches of the trees, and even the murmuring of the river seemed muted; Rumplestiltskin had the uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching him.

“Who’s there?” he whispered, but no one answered.

And then, just at the edge of the forest, he saw movement. A figure was standing there, tall and hooded, and it held out one hand as if beckoning to him. Whimpering in fright, Rumplestiltskin shifted away, grasping for his walking stick. He would wake Belle and they would run, leave this cursed place, and…

“Rumplestiltskin.”

He cried out and nearly fell into the fire; the hooded figure had disappeared and reappeared right beside him, and was now speaking in his ear. “Wh-what do you want?” he stammered.

“To help you.” The figure held out its hand once more, and Rumplestiltskin saw that it was human in shape, though its skin glittered green and gold. “I can help you recover your son.”

That gave him pause, and he peered up into the hood. He swallowed hard at the sight of large yellow eyes set in a twisted face. “You can? How?”

“Come. Walk with me, and I will tell you how.”

* * *

When Belle woke the next morning, she was astonished to find that she was alone. The fire had burned down, and at first she thought he had gone into the woods for some privacy, but he hadn’t returned by the time she’d put the fire out completely and prepared to move out. Where could he be? Surely he would not be so foolish as to try to track down Hordor’s men on his own?

But even on such short acquaintance she knew that was exactly what he would do if he thought he had no other choice. Despite his description of himself as a coward, he was probably the bravest man she’d ever met. Who but a foolishly courageous man would board a pirate ship to try to reason with the captain, or chase down a scouting party of men many times stronger than himself, or voluntarily attend a troll gathering, or trust to the goodwill of a complete stranger?

But perhaps that last had been too much to ask, because this morning he was nowhere to be found. When she was certain he wasn’t in the area, she began to follow his trail, determined to catch up to him. He had several hours’ head start on her, but she was a skilled tracker and he was - unfortunately - a slow walker. She followed his trail confidently for several miles before she stopped, confused.

To her left was the trail Hordor’s party had left, and they weren’t exactly hard to follow. Even a novice could track them on a clear day like today. But Rumplestiltskin’s trail led in the opposite direction. What could have caused him to change direction? Had he learned something she didn’t know? She stood there for a few minutes in indecision, and she had almost made up her mind to try to catch up with Rumplestiltskin when she heard her name called.

“Belle.”

She couldn’t see anyone among the trees, and she slowly drew her dagger, prepared to defend herself. “Who’s there?” she called.

“Have no fear,” said a sweet voice above her, and Belle looked up. Floating a few feet away, the air shimmering all around her, was a fairy. And not just  _ any _ fairy, Belle realized with a thrill. This was the Rheul Gorm. The  _ Blue Fairy _ . “I’m here to guide you.” 

“Guide me?” Belle sheathed her dagger, but stayed on her guard. “I don’t need guidance.”

“I believe you do,” the Blue Fairy said, her voice tinged with regret. “I have been watching you for some time. You have the heart of a hero and noble intentions, but I must warn you - not all those you seek to help are worthy of your efforts.”

“What?”

“The man you’ve met. Rumplestiltskin. He is a danger to you, and to us all. It is best to let him alone. You do not wish to be drawn into his darkness.”

“Darkness? What  _ darkness _ ?” Belle frowned. “He’s searching for his son. What’s dark about that?”

“Nothing, on the surface. But the lengths he will go to save that son - the ambition and fear that lurk in his heart - he is a villain, not a hero.”

Belle gaped at the fairy. “You’re saying that a person can only be a hero or a villain, and that  _ you _ know everyone’s fate?”

“I have seen what will become of him, yes.”

“Can’t you help him? Can’t you return his son to him, or...I don’t know...end this awful war?” Belle waved one hand at her. “Aren’t you the original power?”

The Blue Fairy shook her head slowly. “It’s not for us to meddle in these affairs.”

“Oh, but it  _ is _ for you to come down here and try to stop me from helping a father to find his son?”

As if a cord had been pulled, the Blue Fairy’s gentleness dropped and her face became stern. “You don’t know what you’re saying, child. Rumplestiltskin is not attempting to save his child. He is trying to take control of a dark power, the darkest in our realm. He will stop at nothing to gain that power.”

“The darkest power? The  _ Dark One _ ?” Belle gulped. “How could he…”

“Last night he made a deal with the Dark One. Even now he is on his way to the Duke’s castle to fulfill his end of the bargain.” The Blue Fairy sighed. “A person who would deal with such darkness is not a hero, Belle.”

“Well, it sounds like that was his best offer,” Belle snapped. “Or did you give him an alternative?”

Wings flapping in agitation, the Blue Fairy scowled at her. “You haven’t been listening. Rumplestiltskin does not seek out light, but darkness.”

“So... _ he _ called on the Dark One?”

The Blue Fairy opened her mouth and then closed it.

“I see,” Belle said contemptuously. “Well. Thank you for your  _ guidance _ . I’ll certainly take it into consideration.” Belle turned to stride down the path.

“Be careful, Belle,” the Blue Fairy called after her. “You of all people know how seductive the darkness can be.”

Belle paused, then shook her head and continued, determined to overtake Rumplestiltskin at any cost.


	4. Chapter 4

The Duke’s castle loomed in front of him, and Rumplestiltskin leaned heavily on his walking stick. Somewhere behind those walls was the Dark One’s dagger. If he could retrieve it, the Dark One would find and release Baelfire, and they would be safe once more.

But how to get it? He could not climb, and besides the place was crawling with guards. Thoughtfully Rumplestiltskin eyed every inch of the castle’s stone walls - its glass windows - its wooden doors. His eyes widened. Of course - not everything in the castle would be stone, would it? The floors, perhaps, would be wood, but certainly furniture and tapestries and other flammable things were abundant. If he could  _ smoke _ them out…

_ There _ . Not far away from him was a torch, and Rumplestiltskin reached out to take it. Skirting the edge of the castle walls, he approached a window and peered inside. Yes, the floors  _ were _ wood, and so were the tables and chairs, and heavy tapestries hung from the walls. Taking a deep breath, Rumplestiltskin shoved the torch through the windowpane.

Half an hour later, breathing hard and covered in soot, Rumplestiltskin climbed through the window once more, his prize clutched in his fist. Guards and servants were dashing around him, paying no attention to the limping spinner dressed in rags, and he made for the edge of the forest, his brain humming with the thought that soon he would have his boy back.

* * *

“Keep moving!”

Baelfire stumbled as one of the soldiers kicked him in the back. He wanted to snap that he’d been moving since dawn, but the bruises on his ribs reminded him that that was a bad idea. He ground his teeth and focused on the path, wishing that the cracks he saw in the dirt would open up and swallow his captors.

“Be quiet, idiot,” Hordor hissed at the man who had kicked Baelfire. “This is troll country, and I don’t want to…”

A dagger hissed through the air and struck a tree trunk right next to Hordor’s ear. He cursed loudly and turned on his horse to face the three trolls who had appeared in front of his party.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he sneered. “What can we do for you?”

The troll in the middle of the group stepped forward. “Toll’s ten gold pieces. Pay and you can be on your way.”

Hordor smirked. "And if we don't?"

“Well, we could relieve you of some of your burden if you don’t have the gold,” the troll said, stepping farther forward and grinning at Morraine.

“Leave her alone!” Baelfire shouted.

The troll laughed. “We’ve got a brave one here. What’s your name, boy?”

“Baelfire,” he snapped.

The troll’s eyes widened. “Baelfire?  _ The _ Baelfire?”

Every man in Hordor’s guard turned to look at him, and Baelfire gulped. “Uh. Yes?”

The troll turned back to his group. “Zom’ga! This is  _ Baelfire _ !”

Zom’ga approached, looked Baelfire up and down, and then turned to Hordor. “Give us the boy and we’ll call it even.”

Beside him, Morraine whimpered, and Baelfire felt his knees go weak.

“Why?” Hordor asked suspiciously.

“I have a score to settle with his father,” Zom’ga said menacingly, and Hordor and his men laughed in disbelief.

“A score? With Spindleshanks the Coward? That’s rich!”

“Laugh if you want,” Zom’ga said. “He’s the one who gave me this.” And he gestured to a bandaged wound on his head.

“ _ My father _ attacked  _ you _ ?” Baelfire gasped.

“He took on  _ all of us _ ,” Zom’ga said, gesturing to the other two trolls. “Those two just got lucky. But I guess if you plan to keep the boy and face his father, you’re braver than you look.”

Silence fell over the humans, and Baelfire had the crazy urge to laugh.

“Er...well...if you think it a fair trade,” Hordor said. “I suppose...we can…”

“Great.” Zom’ga whipped out his dagger, sliced through the rope that bound Baelfire to the rest, and grasped his arm. “Good luck with the ogres.” Hordor nodded shakily, glanced once more at Baelfire, and rode on.

Baelfire took a breath, gathering all of his strength and courage, and then slammed his foot down on the troll’s as hard as he could. Cursing, the troll let go of him, and Baelfire ran, ducking through trees and jumping over roots. He looked back to see how closely they were following him, and then had the breath knocked out of him when he tripped and fell to the ground. Panicking, he struggled to his feet, lashing out when four strong hands gripped his arms.

“Easy, kid, take it easy,” a troll snapped.

“Let me go!” Baelfire shouted, waving his arms wildly. He hit one of them in the stomach and it grunted.

“Geez, like father like son,” the troll grumbled. “Stop it, boy! We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Baelfire stopped thrashing around, trying to catch his breath. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“We’re gonna help you find your father,” Zom’ga said, cutting the rope that bound Baelfire’s wrists. “He’s been looking for you.”

“He...he has?” Baelfire froze and stared up at the trolls, his mind blank with shock.

“Yeah.”

“Did he really attack you?”

“Oh...nah, not really. I mean, kind of,” Zom’ga said, looking embarrassed.

“Zom’ga had an...uh... _ episode _ ,” one of the other trolls said tactfully. “Rumplestiltskin was just protecting his friend from Zom’ga’s stupidity.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Zom’ga muttered.

“His  _ friend _ ?” Baelfire said. “Papa doesn’t have any friends.”

“You sure?” Steve frowned. “Pretty brown-haired girl?”

 

“It must have been someone else,” Baelfire said, disappointment causing his shoulders to droop.

 

“Someone else named Rumplestiltskin?” Zom’ga said disbelievingly. “Who walks with a stick and lost his son?”

 

“Well…”

 

“Come on, kid,” Steve said. “We’ll tell you what happened, but we need to get on the road. Rumplestiltskin has half a day’s head start, and if we’re right, he could be heading straight into trouble.”


	5. Chapter 5

Belle emerged from the trees, breathless, to the sight of the Duke’s castle smoldering and people running pell-mell around the grounds, shouting and carrying buckets of water. She cursed under her breath; she was too late, and Rumplestiltskin had already come and gone. He couldn’t be far, though, and she looked around carefully, aware that he would be trying his hardest to blend into the crowds. A few times she thought she’d spotted him, but she was wrong, and…

_ There _ .

He was walking away from the castle and toward the forest, something clutched to his chest under his cloak. Squaring her shoulders, she followed him through the gates, across the road, and into the shelter of the trees. They had just reached a particularly shady spot when a figure appeared in a swirl of purple smoke.

“You have it?” the figure snarled, holding out one hand.

“Y-yes,” Rumplestiltskin said, and he pulled from under his cloak a long, thin dagger.

The Dark One sighed and reached out, but Rumplestiltskin stepped back. “My son,” he said. “You promised - you have to find my son.”

“Your son,” the Dark One sneered. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“What - of course I do, you said…”

“Such a brave, bold, generous boy,” the Dark One said. “Such a  _ good _ boy. Far too good to come from the likes of you. You’ve always suspected that, haven’t you?”

Belle stepped forward as Rumplestiltskin’s hands began to tremble. “I - no. No, he’s mine. My boy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I suppose it’s not really the point. But you want me to return him to you. And then what? What’s to stop the guards for coming from him tomorrow? Or the next day? How will you stop  _ them _ ?”

“I...you…”

“I only do what you command,” the Dark One said. “And one day they’ll overpower you, take the dagger from you. What will you do then? How will you save your boy then? You’ll be  _ powerless _ .”

Rumplestiltskin’s hand twitched and he raised the dagger. “I...I could…”

“Stop! Rumplestiltskin, stop!” Belle cried, running toward him. He turned with a jerk and stared at her, his raised hand trembling.

“He’s right, Belle,” he said miserably. “I - I have to take the power for myself.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “You  _ can’t _ . You don’t know what that dagger will do to you!”

“It will give me his power,” he said, gesturing to the Dark One.

“His  _ curse _ !” Belle stepped forward cautiously. “Why do you think he’s goading you into killing him? He doesn’t want to live with it anymore! He’s trying to pass it on to you!”

“I…” Rumplestiltskin looked from Belle to the Dark One and back again. “How do you know…”

“Because...because I’ve seen it happen,” Belle said. “Someone I knew, he got hold of the dagger and he thought as you did, that he could take the power and win the war. But it’s not just power, it’s a terrible curse, and that dagger controls you. Imagine being forced to obey someone’s every whim! To be made to kill and steal and destroy for the sake of another person’s power!”

“Oh, please be quiet, Belle,” the Dark One sighed. “You never did know when to be still and let the men talk.”

“Maybe if the men ever said anything worth listening to, I would have,” Belle snapped.

Rumplestiltskin staggered back a step. “You - you know each other?”

“We used to,” Belle said sadly. “We used to know each other very well, didn’t we, Gaston?”

The Dark One smiled and lowered his hood. “Not as well as we thought we did, it turns out.”

* * *

Rumplestiltskin’s head was whirling. He wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he knew one thing for certain: no matter who or what the Dark One was, no matter how well Belle knew him, he needed to get Baelfire back.

“Be quiet!” he commanded, and the Dark One’s mouth closed with a snap. “Belle...he’s right. If I don’t take the power, I’m helpless. I’ll never be able to get my boy back or keep him safe.”

“You don’t know that,” Belle said, stepping up to him and placing a hand on his arm. “You can’t know the future, except...if you take on this curse, you’ll fulfill that prophecy you fear so much. Baelfire won’t have his father anymore.”

Rumplestiltskin faltered. “I...I will still be his father…”

“You think darkness like this can take over your soul and leave you unchanged? Impossible.” She reached up and put her hand on his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Do you think Gaston was always like this? He wasn’t. He was my father’s most trusted adviser, and then he  _ killed _ him and drove me out of my home. The darkness took him, corrupted him. It will do the same to you.”

“But I have to protect Baelfire,” Rumplestiltskin whispered. “I promised I would never let anything happen to him.”

Belle shook her head. “That’s not a promise any parent can keep. Even if you could, you shouldn’t. If you don’t let anything happen to him, nothing will  _ ever _ happen to him.”

“Papa?”

For a moment Rumplestiltskin thought he’d imagined the voice, but when it called out again, he turned and saw, through a haze of disbelief, that Baelfire was running toward him, followed by Zom’ga, Vru’sosh, and Steve.

“Bae?”

Bae stopped and stared at him, then at Belle, and then at the Dark One, his eyes filling with fear. “What are you doing?”

“I...I was trying to rescue you, Bae,” he said. “This man - he was going to bring you to me.”

“You did rescue me,” Bae said. “The trolls...they took from Hordor because they recognized my name and wanted to help you. But Papa...they still have Morraine and the others. We have to go back for them.”

“Even if we do, Bae, the guards will just come again,” Rumplestiltskin pointed out. 

Baelfire sighed. “If only the ogres would just  _ disappear. _ ”

“That’s it,” Rumplestiltskin murmured, turning back to the Dark One. Belle stepped away from him, her eyes searching his face.

“Dark One,” Rumplestiltskin said loudly, “I command you to banish the ogres to the farthest deserted island in the realm.” At Baelfire’s confused look, he explained, “Ogres can’t swim.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Rumple!” Belle cried.

Gaston’s face twisted with distaste, but he waved one hand in the air. “It’s done,” he snarled.

“Now,” Rumplestiltskin said, “you will return all the children to their homes.”

His teeth grinding audibly, Gaston gave another flick of the wrist and nodded curtly. “As you command.”

“And finally,” Rumplestiltskin stepped up close to the Dark One, “you will take your dagger and your dark magic, and you will never do anything to harm anyone in this realm ever again.”

Gaston’s nostrils flared in annoyance, but he held out his hand. With a nod Rumplestiltskin placed the hilt of the dagger in his palm, and the Dark One vanished in a puff of purple smoke.

For a few moments no one said anything, and then Baelfire gave an almighty whoop and hurled himself into his father’s arms. Rumplestiltskin staggered back under his weight, but managed to stay upright, and Belle watched them with glistening eyes, her hands pressed over her mouth.

“That was  _ wonderful _ , Rumple,” she said breathlessly.

Blushing, Rumplestiltskin looked away. He took Baelfire’s hand and turned to the trolls. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, “for bringing my boy back to me.”

“It was nothing, Rumple,” Zom’ga said with a wave of his hand. “Feel free to come to a meeting any time you like.” The trolls walked away amidst a chorus of goodbyes, and Baelfire chuckled.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone that you fought three trolls. Let’s see them call you a coward now!”

“They really did call you a coward?” Belle said. “I was just thinking this morning that you were the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

Rumplestiltskin’s face was now bright red, and Baelfire looked between them, a cunning smile on his face.

“Yes, well,” Rumplestiltskin coughed, “it’s getting late. We should probably…”

“We’ll camp here tonight and head home in the morning,” Belle said.

“Home?” Baelfire piped up. “Are you coming home with us?”

“Oh, Belle has a home of her own to go to, I’m sure,” Rumplestiltskin said quickly. “But...you are, of course,” he said, looking at her, “welcome to travel with us.”

“Or stay with us!”

“For as long as you need.”

“Or forever!”

“ _ Bae. _ ”

“Tell you what,” Belle said with a smile. “How about we begin with a fire and a good night’s sleep and take it from there?”

They agreed that was an excellent place to start. The next day would bring its own adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was a little less romantic than I thought it would turn out, but it has the potential for romance and fluff family in the future!
> 
> I enjoyed writing this. Thanks for the challenge of a Pixar AU!


End file.
